Current Mood: Mischievous

I have seriously wondered a few times in the last week if I am losing my mind. I talked to the Seestor last night, and I felt totally better. I laughed hysterically actually, which is a lot better than crying hysterically.

My roommate and I are both in places of extreme stress. It’s not an easy thing for me to deal with the reality of my family’s chosen chaos on a regular basis. I have packed, repacked, moved, and removed items belonging to my parents in the last month and a half. There is no part of me whatsoever interested in any more packing, changing, remodeling, or reinventing. There is only rest, and possibly wanting to work on my own projects, such as clothing donations, or laundry.

My roommate, on the other hand, is in a place where she wants and needs to reinvent, and is in a mood for total cleanup, change, the purchase of new items, and compromise and coordination on the house, meaning that there will be new furniture, wall art, and various other things added that I don’t want or need at all. But she lives there too and has a right to make changes also.

Suffice it to say I think we have both freaked out plenty this week. Such as when we had a conversation for the 10th time at least about the Problem of the Couches. And thus, I threw the couches away, so now we have NO couches.  And when we talked about having an orange wall, I just broke down in tears completely. I can’t deal with an orange wall. She can’t deal with a white wall. We rent, so it’s not like we can just paint everything.

My roomie has left the country again, and I’m desperately hoping that by the time she gets back, I’ll actually want to project again. Right now, my heart, time, money, and energy just aren’t in it. But I don’t want to go berserk about it any more either.

Seestor cheered me up by telling me that neither of us are crazy, and that she had an internal meltdown when thinking about “Hank’s Room”, a 1000 square foot office space packed floor to ceiling with such random and wonderful items as kazoos, life size KISS dolls, popcorn machines, dragon heads, army fatigues, and lots of other things that, when packed together, just make a mind go something like this: “!!!……!…..ohnoohnoohno….whatdoesitmeanwherediditcomefromwhereamIgoingtoputitwhy?why?why?”

And then you have a moment of “Oh! Neat! Oh….oh….nononononoidon’tknowwhattodowiththisthingdamnit!”

And then it becomes more like this: “……….ohithurts…………….ihatethis…………………………pickitupthrowitaway……….repeat…….”

And none of these things were acquired on purpose by the Seestor or her husband. HAPPY RECENT BIRTHDAY Aric! They were just leftovers from the bankruptcy when they got the studio. And I said I understood completely, because I found no less than 250 old razors in mom’s drawers that were USED FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, and my fragile little mind could just not even DEAL with the reality that I found a razor I remember mom shaving with when I was 5. Can’t even eBay that. “Vintage 1983 razor? Must meet minimum bid in order to justify shipping costs?” No.

But some people horde things. And the people who do are never ever ever the people who wind up packing it all and figuring out what to do with it. Sentiment is heavy, and it takes up a lot of space.

On the brighter side of life though, Joe is back from Iraq, and I have enjoyed seeing him and hearing about what’s really going on over there. I am glad he is safe, and it’s pretty damn comforting to visit with people that have known me for half my life and see how things are going for everyone.

Sweet Donnie continues to be the bright spot in my world. He bought me an iPod Touch, which is one of the coolest things ever made, in the history of EVER. I love it! He also gave me some amazing flowers, which make my room smell beautiful, and I have enjoyed waking up to them. We are about to hit the notorious “6 month mark”, but I love him more every day, and I’m so happy and grateful to be with him and near him. We make a good team. It’s so awesome to be in a relationship that isn’t scary, isn’t bland, isn’t dysfunctional, and just keeps kicking ass.

I’m sad summer seems to be coming to a close here so early. We’ve had some very chilly and windy weather this week, a sure sign that fall is on the way. I always want just a little bit more, but I’m looking forward to walking through the haunted corn maze and Halloween, and then all the glorious holidays. Next week will probably be insane. I don’t get Labor Day off, but I didn’t ask for it either. I will comp it out some other time. It’s the start of school for the treatment kids. On the upside, they’ve managed to destroy the desks over the summer, so I don’t have to worry too much about those flying around the room, only pieces of them.

Sigh. I better rest up over the weekend before it’s too late.

Someone actually sent me a comment that wasn’t spam, but I accidentally hit the spam button. So sorry person, whoever you are. Feel free to re-comment.

Current Mood: Happy

Ambien Works. That’s a great song by the Grey Kid. Also, it is true. Therefore, this blog will be as long as the Ambien permits it. 

The week of my birthday was amazing. There were wonderful words that kept cropping up all week, like unique, apocalyptic, yeti, and cake, and presents. There was an ultimate accumulation that resulted in the apocalypse of my 20’s, and delivered me relaxed, contented, and zen-like into my 30’s, having eaten unique cake, and getting presents, and remembering with delight that “yeti” means, “That thing over there!”

I have high hopes that the happy feelings from it it will all last for a long time to come. Sweet Donnie made it the best birthday I have ever had, simply by being there, loving me, and giving me the gift of his time. He also showered me with some of the most amazing presents I have ever received, leaving me wondering what on earth I had done to deserve such luscious treatment. I decided I just did, and thanked him over and over again. I have already started plotting Christmas and his birthday for next year. 

Elise and Kristi and Aric also made it an amazing day by talking with me, having dinner, and giving me unique and marvelous presents that they claimed spoke to them and told them they must come home with me. This is prototype software I’m using, very dangerous should it whisper the wrong thing, such as “Kelly wants the pea green socks,” instead of “Kelly wants the flip flops in summer colors.” But effective thus far. And it is invisible. I could have a plant on your right now, getting ready to tell you what I want for Christmas. 

No. I wouldn’t. I would never. I would only tell you psychically.

Speaking of psychics, Elise and Donnie and Julio and I had a really good time at the fair. We ate a lot of bad for us food, I patted myself on the back for eating two Vikings on a Stick, (and if you have to ask, you’ve never been, and you weren’t there, but I hope you find out someday). We looked at ridiculous things and paid for a machine called the wizard to read our fortunes for two dollars. The was a dirty old man there who was absolutely fascinated with Elise after asking carefully if Donnie is my husband, and learning that I am taken. So he looked her up and down and invited her to Vegas, and told her she was all kinds of lovely, which we already know thank you very much. But the part where he actually asked her to turn around and show him her ass, I grabbed her and said, “time to go.” I guess a man’s gotta have a dream. But really, that’s partly what you go to the carnival for. The oddities, the possible pervert to avoid, the interesting tidbits. The fair is magic no matter what. A community vampire that sucks the life out of a week of summer, and everyone leaves a little of their life force there, in a junk food wrapper, in a scream embedded into the Zipper, in a shriek of laughter from the ridiculous and absurd. 

Hmmm. Perhaps a little prosy here, I feel. 

I am extremely grateful, as always, for Sweet Donnie, my sweet friends, and my sweet seestor. We have had a lot of fun this summer. I intend to have some more. I’m not going to go beat it down with a stick or anything, just make sure I get a few more road trips in there, a few more adventures. You should come with. I think we’ll go dig up some fossils next. 

I’m turning 30 next week. There are some moments where that seems like a big deal, and others where it seems ridiculous and arbitrary, just a number. I’m leaning toward it being a ridiculous and arbitrary number, rather than something that has any real significance other than what society puts on it. I think for women it’s seen as a big deal simply because there are a smaller number of years where they can bear children, but that number is always going down once puberty starts. But I’m still glad that people say how young I look.

Donnie and are are going on a little adventure this weekend, and that makes me extremely happy. I’ve been in a little bit of a funk since coming back from Fort Collins.

My experiment in ignoring the family drama this week has been a success. Now all I have to do it charge it with lightning during the next storm, and it will be ALIVE! ALIVE I SAY!

I’m planning on asking for a large raise this month. I haven’t had one since I’ve been here, and frankly, I feel entitled, yes, entitled to make more than I do. I’m worth it. I have another co-worker who has probably had a raise of around 20% in the last year, so I’ll start by asking for that. The worst they can say is no.

I notice these days that a random word or topic comes up in my life, and floats around for the next 24-48 hours until another one comes along. Right now, the word/topic is “Gunpowder”. Donnie showed me a fabulous website he was working on yesterday promoting apparently kickass gunpowder. This morning, bright and early, the children were talking about gunpowder. So, there’s some weird synchronicity. Whatever it is, it’s fun to play with mentally. I shall be thinking about metaphorical gunpowder today and what I can use it on. Any suggestions?